


Vigilante's Maid

by BlackwatchMimi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Forehead Kisses, Foreplay, Heat Pats, Maids, Mutual Pining, Servants, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, losing a bet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackwatchMimi/pseuds/BlackwatchMimi
Summary: You lose a bet with your close friend, and must serve Soldier: 76 for a day as a result.





	1. Morning Service

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for a wonderful person c:  
> This is chapter 1 of two, with two in progress and to be posted soon.

Sunlight creeps into the windows, illuminating the hallway with morning’s first light as you stand still directly in front of one of the doors. You feel a chill on your exposed shoulders, rolling them for some sort of movement as if it’ll make the sensation go away.

Feeling somewhat ridiculous, you try to adjust the clothing on you as best as you can in the hopes that it might help you feel better over what seemed more like a costume than anything.

The quality was nice, if anything, you thought to yourself as you adjusted the apron of your maid _‘uniform’_ , smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric, then shifting the petticoat, before moving on to make sure your skirt rested low enough and your thigh highs were pulled up properly.

Though you justify the meticulous behavior as simply making sure you don’t appear sloppy before finally knocking on the door in front of you, the reality is that you aren’t sure if you will ever be ready to face Morrison when he opens the door.

Memories from the night before are fresh on your mind.

 

* * *

 

Friendly competition had long since been a fundamental part of your friendship with Hana Song. It often revolved around games, though for your sake, the two of you picked games that you actually had a chance at winning. Certainly no Starcraft II, that was for sure.

The go to between you and your best friend usually ended up being DDR, last night was no different.

The game had been brought into the newly reformed Overwatch’s base at request of Lucio, backed up when you and D.Va insisted it would be a good thing for the base, despite some older members referring to the arcade dancing game as ‘ancient’ or ‘a waste of time’.

They weren’t entirely wrong.

Keeping true to the rules of competition between yourself and Hana, the two of you had a friendly wager. But while normally the rules of the game were “loser serves the winner for a day”, Hana - who often strived for higher stakes - decided on a last minute change of rules.

This time, the loser had to serve someone of the winner’s choosing.

To you, picking Lucio as the person D.Va would be made to serve seemed like a given. Though in hindsight, you wondered if someone as kind and wholesome as him would even allow for that; but when she teased by telling him she hoped he liked maid outfits on Hana. You couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed to get the DJ flustered enough that he went off for a short amount of time.

Despite trying to pry out from Hana who her choice was for you to serve, you couldn’t, and eventually just started the competition without knowing her plan. She wasn’t aware of anyone you might be interested in - despite the fact that there _was_ someone - so did she just pick the most embarrassing option? Or take a guess?

By the end of the last song, the two of you caught your breath as D.Va stood triumphantly leaning against the bar of the machine behind her.

Having beat you in your friendly wager, Hana spilled who she’d chosen for you to spend the day doting on.

“Morrison, of course!” she exclaimed with an enthusiastic wink.

You spent the rest of that night in a state of shock and shame as Hana sought Jack to fill him in on the details of your bet, he wasn’t particularly receptive to the idea, giving the younger Overwatch member a firm ‘No’ before she could even completely finish her sentence.

But like she always did, Hana persisted despite his answer before leaving to his room for the night, and insisted that you still greet the vigilante at his door the next morning to serve him, handing over to you an altered-to-fit maid uniform.

“I’m sure ‘Mr. Morrison’ will change his mind when you’re there in the morning ready to make his day the easiest he’s ever had in his life,” D.Va chirped as you looked over the uniform and summarized that she’d planned the whole thing out, given that the sizing seemed _perfect_ for your body.

 

* * *

 

 _"Make sure you stay in character~"_  you recall Hana saying before you turned in for the night.

You feel out of place now, standing in front of Jack Morrison’s door and waiting to gather enough of yourself to knock on it. The longer you took to do so, the more a mild frustration with your friend took over your thoughts.

 _‘Stupid, why would she think I want to spend the day with him?’_ you think to yourself, denial strong.

The stalling is futile when out of the corner of your eye you see the knob turn before the door opens. You step backward in surprise, gasping softly as Jack opens the door completely, his other hand running through his thinning grey hair. The older man is dressed in casual, standard issue Overwatch clothing - typically what agents wore for physical training. The difference between this and his vigilante outfit are significant, most notably the fact that the material clings to _every_ curve and muscle of his body.

Jack stops in his tracks, the hand in his hair dropping to his mouth where he covers it, his cheeks flushing pink as he glances off to the side flustered, only occasionally trying to look at you from the periphery of his vision.

“Didn’t I say ‘No’ already?” he rumbles, his eyes and voice still sleepy - despite mild signs of embarrassment - and giving away that he’d just woke up. Not surprising, it already took every ounce of _your_ strength to get up at an earlier time to beat Jack of all people to the kitchen.

“Y-you did,” you agree, nodding, “but a bet’s a bet.”

A silence falls between the two of you as Morrison raises a pale eyebrow. If the frown is anything to go by, it doesn’t look like he’s going to cave on his original answer.

Clearing your throat, you decide to put your best act on anyway.

“I’ve prepared coffee in the lounge, as well as your usual breakfast, M-Master,” Jack makes a sound at the title of 'master' and it’s hard to avoid the rush of heat in your cheeks as you speak to him like his actual maid, only just barely able to get the title out with a stutter; it makes you want to hide your pink cheeks behind your hand, but you manage not to and smile awkwardly. “If you don’t mind, I’ll meet with you in there after I make your bed.”

The older man appears completely taken aback by your ‘Professional Maid’ act, making a low noise of surprise. Though you aren’t quite able to meet his gaze, you notice he seems surprised just in time for him to compose himself.

“Ridiculous,” he rumbles, stepping out of the doorway and around you. You watch, standing still in uncertainty, as he walks down the hallway and turns out of sight around the corner.

“Um,” you mumble quietly, a delayed response to Jack despite the fact that he’s already gone.

You feel uncertain of what to do, it seems like he’s clearly rejected the Maid Service for the day. Though at first you feel disappointed, when your gaze drops to the still-open door of Morrison’s bedroom. Realisation hits you that he didn’t outright say no when you said you’d make his bed and later join him, and it seems unusual a private man like Jack would leave his room open and unattended.

You grin, stepping into the room and making your way to the messy, wrinkled bed. You strip off the duvet and begin to get to work smoothing out the sheets. At the very least, if Jack actually is accepting your service for the day, he’s much less egotistical about it than Hana had ever been.

And he did look handsome; freshly awake with sleep still in his eyes.

Shaking your head of the thoughts, you continue dressing the bed in a smooth and professional way. Not handsome - you try to affirm to yourself.

 

* * *

 

Getting a little carried away, you ended up doing a little bit more than just making the bed. Hurrying down the hall after tidying the room, you made your way to the lounge where you hope Jack would still be, or else you’d have to find him - somehow you feel like he won’t wait up.

Though you want to feel relief that Morrison is still present, your face feels hot at the sight of Ana in the lounge as well, sipping at a cup of tea as she reads the news on a holovideo in front of her. Both her and Jack are sitting in silence reading, but as you enter the room as well, the older woman’s gaze shifts from the hologram to you.

Ana doesn’t say anything, only looks you over briefly, making you feel a little out of place in the puffy-skirt maid uniform. As she takes another sip of her tea, she chuckles, but otherwise doesn’t say anything.

Embarrassment keeps you in the doorway for a moment, feeling a sort of stage fright at the idea of keeping up the maid shtick in front of others. You gulp nervously before taking small steps forward and reaching over for the empty, dirty plate in front of Jack.

“Would you like more coffee, Master?” you mumble meekly, hoping that Ana doesn’t hear you despite being only a few feet away. Though something in her eyes gives her amusement away, she doesn’t make a peep or even smile about it, sparing you somewhat from the embarrassment.

“No thank you,” he grumbles without making eye-contact, using a gesture with his fingers to change the page on his own news hologram.

You nod in acknowledgement of his refusal, bringing the plate over to the small sink and rinsing the crumbs from Jack’s breakfast off, reaching for the dish detergent and squeezing a drop onto the plate.

Using the washcloth, you clean the dish quickly, setting it gently against the drying rack. When you dry your hands off and turn around, you notice Morrison’s cup of coffee is completely full again, steaming hot from a fresh pour and black. You purse your lips for a moment, making a sound of displeasure. Though Jack’s forehead wrinkles indicating he registered your little noise, he doesn’t look at you or say anything.

As if trying to change a subject, Jack’s icy gaze falls to Ana across the table from him.

“Do you have the key card still from your time in the gym?” he asks, “It isn’t in the office.”

Though you didn’t personally use the gym, due to some of Overwatch’s best troublemakers - probably McCree - the facilities only had one key card accessible to help reduce the possibility of others - probably McCree - getting in and getting up to no good. It wasn’t so much the workout equipment as much as the massage beds, chairs, and even once the tanning bed, he’d managed to cause drunken damage to.

“I do,” Ana answers, without bothering to procure the key that Morrison clearly wants from her. Silence falls for some time, Jack’s pale eyes staring at her as she continued flipping through the digital pages of the articles she was reading.

“Well?” his eyes narrow at his longtime friend, suspicious of her as she still doesn’t give up the key.

“Alright, Jack,” she chuckles, reaching down to her pocket and pulling out the magnetic card attached to a lanyard.

But she doesn’t toss it over to Jack, instead, she throws it backwards towards where you’re standing.

“A-ah!” you exclaim, lurching forward to catch the key and almost having it fall out of your hands. You stare at it in confusion as you stand up properly again, trying to maintain the act of ‘Professional Maid’.

“I believe you have someone else who is meant to handle things like these for you today,” Ana stands from her seat and brings her own empty teacup and plate to the sink, laughing under her breath as she begins to tidy up her own dishes. “You should learn to accept the help.”

“R-right…” Jack sighs, looking defeated. He chugs down the rest of his hot coffee like it was water, and stands as well. He looks at you expectantly, but doesn’t move.

Though you’re still taken by surprise by Ana’s actions, you catch on quickly that Morrison is waiting for you to take the lead, probably considering you have the key to where he plans to go.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything too in-character, not again with someone in the room especially since Ana had directly addressed her role. Instead, you simply make your way to the door and open it, stepping aside while holding the door.

“After you, Master,” you mumble quietly, averting Jack’s gaze has he walks past you through the doorway.

You follow silently behind the man as the two of you wind through the hallways, not a single word shared between you. It makes you lose yourself in thought rather than remain in the awkward silence. Eventually, your thoughts lead you to wonder why Jack hadn’t simply _demanded_ you hand over the key-card rather than bring you along. Although you would want to insist you fulfill your ‘duty’ for the day, you wouldn’t have persisted if he’d been particularly firm.

Overthinking.

It definitely feels like you’re overthinking it. He probably left his bedroom door open because he didn’t want to bother, same with why he doesn’t put out the effort in demanding the gym’s key.

When you scan the key card and the two of you enter the gym together, Morrison makes a quick turn to the changerooms. Warmth spreads across your cheeks as the thought of following crosses your mind, but you awkwardly laugh it off and remain at the entrance.

Jack doesn’t remain in there for long, returning with some dark, neatly folded dark articles of clothing. You had already assumed he was dressed for the gym, and open your mouth to say something, but Morrison cuts you off before you can get any words out.

“Go change into these,” he orders, handing you the clothes.

Staring blankly at the clothing, it takes you a moment to register that these are gym clothes in your size. Though the idea of changing in and out of your uniform seems tedious and less than appealing, Jack had ordered it from you and it seemed simple enough to join him in his workout.

“Yes, Master,” you finally respond, taking the clothing into the changeroom.

It’s a bit tricky to get yourself out of the maid uniform, dealing with all the accessories and ribbons in a small little change cubicle. The standard issue clothing provided by Morrison were simple in comparison, just some stretchy, form-fitting black shorts along with a sports bra, leaving most of your legs and stomach exposed. But at the very least it was much more comfortable than the dress you’d changed out of.

Leaving the dress on a hanger in the change rooms, you exit to see Jack had waited patiently for you to get dressed. He only seems to glance at you from the corner of his eyes, quickly snapping his gaze forward again as if somewhat flustered. He clears his throat as if composing himself, and gestures for you to follow.

"Just do what I do, try your best to keep up," he tells you, lowering himself to the mats and positioning himself for push-ups.

"Y-yes Master," you lower yourself as well, and when the silver-haired man starts, you follow his lead as he'd told you to. 

 

* * *

 

At some point, Jack must have gotten carried away. Or he was secretly a sadist despite what you thought about him. He'd pushed you until sweat dripped from the tip of your nose, cycling between various workouts. Tricep dips, lunges, pushups, situps, long hold planks. Your limbs ached and while sweat glistened on the vigilante's skin, matting his white hair to his forehead, he didn't show any actual signs of fatigue. 

But that was a super soldier for you. 

 

It's hard to react at first when his hand wraps around your upper arm and he helps you up to your feet, though your cheeks were already warm and red from the intense workout, you feel a tinge where his hand touches your skin. As soon as you stand, you pull your arm away from him a little too quickly, suddenly feeling regret that he isn't touching you anymore.

Frustration takes over and you turn to head to the showers to clean yourself and change, but Jack's hand around your wrist stops you.

"Not done yet," he hums, releasing your wrist as soon as he's sure you've stopped walking off. "While we're here, we should see if you're suited for combat. How long has it been since you've been in the field?"

The idea of being  _tested_  while you were already completely out of energy seems dreadful. Though in any normal circumstances you might turn Jack down for the sake of not pushing yourself, it seemed like your limits were being intentionally tested in the first place.

"What would you like me to do, Master?" you asked, trying to make it seem like you aren't as exhausted as you  _know_ you are.

"A short spar," he answers, stepping back to leave some space between the two of you, "you can have first attack. Try and go for a pin."

"W-what?" you ask in surprise, "P-Pin?"

Jack cocks a pale eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. It's obvious in his expression that he means what he said. You sigh in exasperation, the mix of exhaustion and uncertainty a clear sign you have  _no chance._ Not that you even had a chance at your best, either. 

"I'm waiting," he goaded, crossing his arms. His expression remains still, eyes not breaking their stare as he makes it very clear he is definitely  _waiting._

You realise he won't relent, and take up a fighting stance, stepping slowly to the side as if circling to find an opening. Though his gaze follows you, he doesn't move from his cross-armed position. 

When you're to his side, it seems like the best moment - especially to take advantage of the fact that he isn't in any sort of prepared stance to deal with what you might do. 

Lunging forward, you go in for the pin.

But you're stopped before you can even take more than three full steps forward.

Jack is fast. He grabs your arm and hooks it behind your back while he kicks the back of your knees and forces you to fall down onto the mats, holding you in place. He presses his knee to the part of your back that's bare, putting pressure but not enough to cause any pain other than the ache in your muscles. You groan, wiggling from beneath him as if it would help you get away.

All points of contact between your body and his feel like they're on fire, sending a pleasing tingle through your body. You practically hide your face into the mats, and try to tell yourself it's just a spar, there isn't a reason to get so flustered. But the reality was you were pinned to the ground by Soldier: 76, his body was warm and pressed a little more close to yours than you even thought it would be. When he speaks, it's a lot closer to your ear than you thought he had been,

"Sloppy," he growls. The rumble in his chest makes you shudder. "You'll need to be taught better."


	2. Evening Service

Heart pounding in your chest, you shift beneath Jack’s firm pin, trying not to let your mind linger too long on how his body feels pressed so closely against yours. If the workout didn’t take away your breath, _this_ certainly did. It feels like he lingers for much longer than he needs to. You forget to breathe when he moves to remove his weight from your body, his hand brushing against your bare waist and making you shiver.

When the warmth of his body withdraws and he releases your arm, you feel somewhat disappointed, turning around to face Morrison as you stand up.

He doesn’t look at you, it seems very deliberate that he doesn’t, suddenly coming off as much more reserved than just before. It seems like his cheeks are flush but you pass it off as having been because of working out.

“Anyway we’ll work on your skill in combat another time,” he grumbles, turning toward the changerooms.

“A-alright.” You manage to peep out. As Jack starts to walk off, you begin to follow, only for him to stop in his tracks.

What happened after your short-lived spar has your thoughts scattered, you don’t realise right away that the man in front of you stops walking, and as a result you bump into his back, gasping in surprise.

“I’m going to shower, you know,” Jack looks over his shoulder at you only for a brief moment before he continues walking off.

“O-oh,” you murmur embarrassed, realising you probably shouldn’t then be following him into the shower.

Realisation hits that you haven’t been fulfilling your maid duties since the two of you began training, and you suddenly feel like you need to get back into it.

“D-do you need any assistance, Master?” you stammer, having not thought out the implications of your words before they pass your mouth. You cover your lips with your hand in embarrassment, feeling mortified as Jack slows and his shoulders tense in reaction to your words.

“N-no thank you,” he sighs, his shoulders relaxing. He’s thankful at least that his back is turned to you, leaving you unable to see the red in his cheeks at the thought of _assistance_ in the shower.

When he leaves you alone in the training room, your hand drops back to your side and you remain a little stunned over recent events, until you realise your skin was sticky with sweat and you _really_ needed to shower as well.

But you don’t follow right away, instead opting to remain in place until you know Jack is showering so it doesn’t seem as though you’re intentionally tailing him despite the fact that he rejected any offer of assistance.

When you hear the water start up, you head to the change room showers as well, feeling flush when your eyes wander and you see Jack’s clothes left in a tidy pile on a bench near the shower he’s using.

Chiding yourself mentally for your suddenly frequent wandering thoughts, you grab a towel and hang it outside of your shower stall before hopping into it, stripping down your clothes from behind the curtain. You drop the pile of clothes on the floor and press the panel for water.

It comes out cold at first, making you squeak and shiver from the shock of sudden cold water on your hot body, but as the water warms up and you adjust to the temperature you feel relief in your aching muscles.

Your thoughts having managed to consistently linger on Jack the whole time, you wonder if you can even handle the _entire_ day with him after everything that happened so far - before lunch, even! You sigh as you press the soap dispenser and begin to thoroughly scrub your body clean.

By the time you’re done rinsing off, sound of water falling makes it impossible to tell if Jack himself has finished or not. You turn off the flow of water and listen carefully, reaching only an arm out to grab a towel and start to dry off.

His shower isn’t running anymore, you can tell that much, but it’s hard to hear if he’s even still in the bathroom.

Wrapping the white towel around your body, you step out from behind the curtain into the much cooler air of the changing rooms. You look around for Jack, spotting him from the periphery of your vision only to snap your gaze in another direction as you see him standing in front of the sink with only a towel on.

Though you try your best not to look, on your way to the stall where you’d left to your uniform it’s hard not to take small glances from the corner of your eye as you pass him, his skin glistening with leftover drops of water that slide down the curve of his muscular back. When his head moves up and he catches your reflection behind him in the mirror as you pass, your glance shifts away in an attempt to act nonchalant.

Jack seems to get the same idea as you and retreats into one of the stalls, presumably to get dressed as well.

By the time you’ve only just managed to get half of the maid dress back on you can hear him leaving his own stall, making you move faster to catch up with him before he disappeared - like he often had a habit of doing.  
You’re still semi bent over and tugging up one of your socks past your knee as you exit in a hurry, only to stop when you see Morrison leaning against the wall in wait for you. Embarrassed, you straighten up immediately and offer a sheepish grin to the man, who’s expression seems… softer than you’re used to seeing.

Straightening out your skirt, you glance at the clock before closing the distance and place your hand on the door to exit the the change rooms.

“We seem to be just in time for lunch,” you hesitate when his eyes fall on you, suddenly reminded of how _close_ you just were with him when he pinned you and the tension that fills the space between the two of you since then. “Shall we go eat, Master?”

Jack’s jaw clenches as if he’s about to say something, but he sighs and resigns himself to just a short ‘yeah’ before heading out of the door, and like before you follow along behind him.

 

* * *

 

Most of the agents are in the lunch area when the two of you get there, a few eyes falling on you and your _outfit_ as you walk in tailing Jack. You can tell without even _looking_ that Jesse is off to the side with a grin on his face and probably stifling laughter, if not at least a chuckle.

Having insisted Jack take a seat, you head over to make plates for the both of you. Still not quite the organization it used to be, Overwatch’s lunches were pretty simple as it was usually prepared by a couple of agents each day. On the menu today is chicken and veggie wraps, assorted in some variety. You figure from any habits he’d shown previously on base that chicken would be Jack’s go to, and set a few of the well-filled wraps on his plate.

Grabbing some for yourself and juice to go with your meal, you return to the table where Jack sits, placing both trays in front of your respective seats, and sitting down across from him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, seemingly unfazed by the reactions of other agents around him.

The two of you eat in mostly silence together, until it becomes too awkward for you and you decide to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Do you have any other plans for the day, Master?” you ask after swallowing some of your _very_ well made food.

“Work you to the bone,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Hey!” You exclaim, your face twisting into a mix between annoyed and embarrassed, “I’m not going to do anything I don’t want to do, you know.”

“That’s doesn’t sound very maid like,” he responds. Though his voice sounds completely serious, as he brings some of his food to his mouth to take a bite you notice the corners of his mouth curled upwards. The sight only lasts a brief moment before he’s taken a bite and starts to chew, but the moment you notice he’d been smiling for that quick moment, it makes you even more flustered.

“It’s just… a bet for fun you know, I’m not gonna do everything you ask just because I _have_ to, only ‘cause I want to,” you pout, and though Jack’s brow furrows for a moment, he doesn’t seem very expressive.

“I understand,” Morrison responds, a sudden shift from his teasing moments ago. If anything, he seems concerned, and you aren’t sure whether it makes you more frustrated or not. That is, until you start to chuckle quietly.

A pale silver brow raises at your subtle laughter, taking clear notice.

Covering your mouth to laugh, you take a moment while Morrison looks at you in confusion, lowering the wrap in his hand to his plate. When you’ve calmed down enough that your laughter dies down into an amused grin, you stand up slightly and lean your body over the table, reaching out for Jack.

The older man only recoils slightly as you bring your thumb to his face, wiping dressing from the wrap off the corner of his mouth. He remains still even as you pull away from his face, only his eyes following your movements until you wipe the bit of sauce onto a napkin.

It feels fulfilling to have done it as the man stares at you in surprise, making it feel like the tables have turned.

“Didn’t you say you were only doing things you _want_ to do?” He finally rumbles after managing to compose himself.

The smug look that was on your face is practically wiped away at his words.

He caught you there.

 

* * *

 

After Jack so expertly caught you with your own words, you remained silent for the rest of lunch, tidying up after both you and him.

He wasn’t being completely untruthful when he said he’d work you to the bone for the rest of the day. Though less on a physical level, the complete lack of mental stimulation was nearly driving you mad as he went through paperwork as well as scanning world events and trying to catch trace of some of Overwatch’s enemies. The only thing you could do was to keep occupied by tidying up after him when he mindlessly tossed things around.

It was a relief when time for dinner came around, until Jack was so engrossed into his work that after a few reminders for him to get dinner before it was too late, you had to bring in plates to his work area for the both of you to get something to eat. He was thankful at least, but remained at work until most of the other agents turned in for the night.

When the two of you finally left, you brought the dishes to the kitchen to get them cleaned, and to your surprise Jack followed.

“I can handle this myself, Master,” you finally say, breaking the silence as you start running water to clean the dishes. Jack leans against the counter beside you, palms resting on top of it.

“The day’s over already, you don’t have to keep doing everything,” he only glances to watch as you scrub down the dishes in hot, soapy water.

“The job isn’t done until you’re asleep, Master,” you answer, lying through your teeth. It could have been over at midnight, that was the _official_ rule, but you were enjoying yourself and wanted to keep it going on at least a little bit longer.

You tense as Jack leans closer, certain somehow that he knows you’re lying, so you try not to make eye contact. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel him gently touch your hair, his body the closest to you it’s been since he had you pinned in the gym that morning.

“Let me help,” he offers.

“Well…” you trail off for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to resist his offer to help. You sigh, deciding you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, and hand him a freshly scrubbed plate, still dripping with soapy suds, “alright then.”

Jack murmurs a thanks and rinses off your cleaned dishes, wiping them dry quickly before putting them away. It really speeds up the process, a relief considering how tired you feel after such a long day. But you realise as soon as the dishes are done that the only thing left to do is escort Morrison to bed for the night. Your shoulders drop and you sigh before putting back on the maid act.

“Shall I escort you to bed, Master?” you ask after rinsing your hands from any leftover soap residue.

“I’d like that.” Soldier smiles briefly, and your cheeks flush immediately at the sight.

Avoiding looking directly at him, you walk in front to lead him through the dark, quiet hallway. He follows closely behind, making it impossible for you not to tense up. He managed all day to get under your skin in a way you liked more than you were comfortable admitting.

When you stop at his door, he leans forward from behind you, chest briefly pressing against your back and making your heart skip a beat, to scan his hand and unlock the room’s door. You get the message, and enter first, deciding to head over to the bed and pull his blankets back so that Jack can easily slide into bed.

“I’m not the slightest bit tired,” he says from behind you. At the sound of his voice, you turn to look at him as he speaks only to squeak and look away at the sight of his bare, muscular chest.

Was it necessary for him to take off his shirt so quickly? It wasn’t like the gym this time, you were in his _bedroom_. You hear him chuckle, making it obvious he caught on to your reaction.

“Mind keeping me company?” he asks, stepping over to the bed and taking a seat on the edge in front of you.

He looks up at you in wait for your answer, your teeth nervously nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Did you have anything in mind, Master?” you ask, speaking barely above a whisper.

“I have,” Jack pauses, reaching a large, rough hand to grasp yours. He intertwines his fingers with your own and tugs you forward, making you fall forward and into his lap, one of your knees beside him on the bed and the other between his legs. The position isn’t the most comfortable, you hold your breath unsure of sure what to do so instead you wait for Jack to do something.

“That is, if you’re alright with it,” Soldier reaches around your waist and places his hand against the small of your back, pulling you closer against his bare chest.

It feels nearly impossible to process his words, his hand running up and down your back in a gentle, exploratory touch; making you shiver pleasantly with every motion. “Y-yeah,” you finally manage to breathe out.

The permission seems to be enough for Jack not to hold back, his hand releasing yours and cupping your face to pull it closer to his own. Time feels like it’s stopped completely until his lips brush against yours.

Unsurprisingly, his lips are rough. Likely, Jack didn’t take care of them very well, not to mention the scar tissue you can feel with your own lips. But his kiss was gentle despite that, moving in slow tandem with your own. His tongue flicks out experimentally to taste, and he groans softly against the kiss.

Placing your hands against the warmth of his bare chest, you squeak against the kiss as he pulls you down onto the bed with him - leaving you laying on top of him as the hand at your back tugging on the maid uniform’s ribbon to unravel and pull it off.

"And you're sure?" he asks the moment your lips part from each other. He places kisses across your jaw, down to the sensitive flesh of your neck, making your whimper.  
  
"I'm sure," you shudder, hands exploring the vigilante's chest, the tips of your fingers tracing over his defined muscles. 

Jack uses his teeth to tug the skin of your neck, his hands working carefully to peel away the layers of your dress as he ravishes your neck with kisses until the dress is on the floor, leaving you with nothing but your thigh high socks and undergarments on.

As he guides you to straddle him, you feel flustered when his hard cock presses up against your lightly clothed sex, his hands pressing you down by your hips to grind up against you.

"I've wanted this all day," he confesses, hips rolling upward.

The way his confined bulge rubs against you sends tiny waves of pleasure through your body. You don't respond right away to his words, taking the initiative to reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall onto the bed.   
  
"I did too," you finally respond, your hips rolling to grind against him. Your wetness begins to seep through your underwear, leaving a small visible spot.  
  
Spurred on by your verbal confession of desire, Soldier: 76 suddenly pushes himself up and grabs you by the waist, flipping you over so that he's on top. "Good," he purrs, wrapping his lips around one of your exposed nipples.

Using his thumb and forefinger to gently pinch and tug at one nipple, his other hand trails down your midsection, running over your waist and squeezing your thigh until he brings it between your legs, his thumb finding your clit hidden by your underwear and pressing against it, gently running circles over the fabric.

You moan, your back arching as Jack's thumb just barely offers your clit pleasure, and his tongue flicks over your nipple.

"Tell me you want more," he commands as he switches his mouth to the other nipple, using his lips to gently tug at the sensitive, perked nub.

"I want more Jack," you immediately respond, your hips shaking with a  _need_ for him to offer you more. 

Morrison's low chuckle vibrates against your breast, his head lowering to your stomach where he places a few stray kisses until making his way lower.

Bringing both hands to your underwear, he carefully tugs them down to expose your wet slit, experimentally blowing at at your clit. You mewl and squirm at the sensation, lifting your legs to help Jack along with pulling your underwear off. 

He nestles between your legs, gripping your thighs to hold them apart, as the flat of his tongue broadly strokes up your slit, lapping up your wetness. Despite your whimpers and squirms, he doesn't oblige you and give you too much too fast, instead he places a loving kiss against your clit, his lips brushing against it. 

"Please," you whine, a hand dropping to the top of his head, fingers tangling in his soft silver hair.

Indulging your plea, he places his tongue on your needy clit, drawing slow clockwise circles around it as he brings a finger to your entrance, slowly inserting the single digit to savour your desperate noises.

But Jack gives in soon enough, lapping more eagerly between your wet folds, alternating between licking and sucking your clit as he uses just a single digit to drive your wild, his rhythm firm and steady. You aren't even conscious of how eagerly your hips roll into the pleasure, a tightness building at your core until your low mewls turn into eager moans of pleasure.

"You're so wet," he murmurs with praise, finger curling each time he withdraws it to rub right up against your sweet spot.

Just as he takes you higher and you feel yourself about to be brought right into your peak, Jack's finger withdraws along with his mouth, a line of your wetness connecting his lips and your slit until it finally snaps and he licks his lips clean. 

"Not yet," he teases as you whine in protest of being left needy to get off. 

Jack pulls down his pants, bringing his underwear along with them before he crawls on top of you. 

At first, your lustful haze has you going on with what he does, but just as he starts to place himself between your legs to put a hand on his chest and push gently.

" _I'm_ supposed to be serving you," you remind him, wiggling slightly out from under him.

"Oh?" Jack raises his brow in curiosity, and you take the opportunity to guide him to switch your positions again, leaving Morrison lying flat on his back.

The sight of his throbbing cock makes you ache for him, a hand reaching forward to wrap around it and stroke it experimentally.

You move on top of him, straddling him and positioning his cock against your slit.

Leaning forward, you take Jack's lips with your own, gently grinding his bare cock against your slit and nipping his lip, groaning each time his cock brushes against your clit. 

When you pull away from the kiss to look at him, Jack seems pleased with your initiative, a hand resting against your thigh and stroking it lovingly. 

With your knees rested against the bed, you push yourself up to position the tip of his cock at your entrance, stroking the thick shaft as you guide it. When the head prods at your hole, the anticipation is too much and you don't wait any longer to lower yourself onto his cock, trying to hold back your moan so you can hear Jack groan in pleasure as your tight warm walls take him in. 

You're slow at first in lowering yourself onto him, but it seemingly makes Jack impatient. By the time you're halfway down his cock, he places both hands on your hips and pushes you down on him completely, making you cry out as he fills you completely. 

Using your hips as a grip, Jack pulls himself to sit up, silencing you with his lips as the two of you begin to rock your bodies together, thick cock sliding in and out of your tight needy heat.

"Jack," you moan, your hands wrapping around his shoulders, fingertips pressing into the muscle of his back as you hold onto him tightly. 

Jack purrs your name in response, holding one arm around your waist while his hand tightly grips one of your thighs. He brings his mouth to your neck, latching his lips onto the skin and sucking a love-bite onto your skin.

His growls of pleasure rumble in his chest, breath tickling your neck as he desperately kisses wherever his mouth ends up, thrusting into you enthusiastically. 

"O-oh God, Jack," you whimper, body shaking with pleasure.

As if it weren't enough, Jack releases your thigh to bring his hand between your bodies, using his thumb to flick and rub your neglected clit.

Your nails dig into his skin as you hold onto him tightly, the pleasure making you force your eyes shut as your body desperately tries to keep up with his rhythmic thrusts, only increasing in speed - rougher by the second.

"Come for me," he growls into your ear.

"J-Jack I-," you gasp, your legs tightening around him.

"Come on baby, come..."

He doesn't need to tell you a third time. Your body completely unravels from his touch and he sends you into climax, the waves of pleasure making you tense up and still while your inner walls tightly squeeze around his cock.

"J-Jack!" You cry out, the sound of your desperate moans filling the room as the complete bliss overwhelms you until you're twitching in his arms. 

Just as your peak tapers off, Jack sheaths himself completely into your cunt, stilling himself as he groans out your name and fills you with ribbons of cum spilling into the depths of your needy hole. He curses, his cock twitching within you until every last bit is emptied, but he doesn't pull out for some time.

Despite your body becoming limp with exhaustion, he keeps you in place as he catches his breath until  _finally_ he drops down onto the bed and pulls you with him, his cock sliding out of you with a wet sound that makes you shiver. 

His release leaking out of your wet, sensitive hole, you nestle yourself on the bed next to him. Almost instinctively, Jack's arm wraps around you and pulls you close to his warm body.

"I've been waiting a long time for that," he rumbles, leaning over to place a soft kiss against your forehead.

"Y-yeah," you agree, nodding. The kiss feels warm against your already hot skin, and you cuddle up into the crook of his arm, the day's exhaustion finally catching up to you.

Neither of you exchange any more worst, instead drift quickly off to sleep, exhausted from all of the excitement of the day.

 

* * *

 

You woke up late the next day, enlisting Jack's help to get you to your room without being seen so you could get a more  _normal_ change of clothes, rather than put on the maid uniform from the night before. 

When you're finally in the clear, you enter your room and Jack leaves you to your own devices, giving you time to change and clean up before you  _finally_ make your way to the dining area for a lunch you desperately needed.

"Hey!"

You pause in your tracks the moment you enter the dining area as you hear Hana call to you. She saunters over enthusiastically, leaning in with a smug expression.

"Well, how did the night go with, y'know?" she nudges at your side, and you stammer trying to come up with a response.

D.Va's gaze shifts from you to over your shoulder, when you hear Jack chuckle from behind you, the weight of his hand falling to rest on the top of your head.

Morrison doesn't linger though, instead heads over for the food leaving you stuck along with Hana.

"W-well, you know... boring Overwatch paperwork," you finally manage to answer, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done!  
> A very big thanks and a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the commissioner. I had a lot of fun finishing this up. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, will be updating soon c:


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